


Drawing Fire

by Atsadi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bullying, First Meetings, Gen, Kid Bucky Barnes, Kid Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsadi/pseuds/Atsadi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes did indeed meet in a schoolyard fight, but it wasn't quite how everyone assumed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawing Fire

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!”

Steve tensed. He possessed what Sister Marie called a ‘devilish talent’ for getting himself into trouble (which usually didn’t end well for him, since at seven years old he was thirty pounds if he was an ounce). And those right there were fighting words if he’d ever heard them. He whipped his head up from his book.

“Yeah, you, Nancy!” someone else jeered.

His hearing wasn’t quite up to snuff and so he couldn’t pinpoint who was speaking, but even so there didn’t seem to be anyone anywhere near him on the playground who…

“He’s tryin’a run!”

That was the point Steve realized that, for once, it seemed he was not about to be in the middle of something that would cause one of the nuns to box his ears. He was relieved for a quick second – before the words registered and he looked around for whoever was trying to make a break for it. He didn’t have to look too far, as there was a group of boys arranged in a tight semicircle around one of the golden-leaved trees just a little ways from the fence pole where he was sat. He could just make out someone in the middle of the group, a brown-haired boy, and when the others shifted he got a much better view –

– of a hand wrapped around the boy’s throat.

Steve was up in an instant; his book left crumpled in the dirt as he strode over to the pack with a frown.

“– so tough?” he caught on the approach, along with a nauseating chuckle from the group at large. There were at least six of them.

“Hey!”

All six pairs of eyes turned on him. The boy against the tree rolled his head down from where it had fallen back against the bark in his struggle for breath, and he fixed his piercing blue eyes on Steve in some disbelief.

“ _What_?” one of the boys snarled, and Steve recognized him. Two years above his class, the brother of one of the girls who was kind to him and helped him with his Mathematics. Annie. In turn, he would draw pictures of her as she requested and give them to her free of charge. One time she kissed his cheek. He’d blushed for an hour after.

Her brother was glaring down at Steve with the same beautiful brown eyes she had, but without her soft sweetness. Steve grimaced.

“You should let him go,” Steve informed him with authority, thinking that if his sister was such a lovely creature then he couldn't be as bad as he seemed.

Annie’s brother smirked and turned to look at an even larger boy with severe blond hair: the one with his hand still wrapped around the brown-haired boy’s neck. Then the pair started laughing, soon joined by the others.

“None of your business, _kid_ ,” Annie’s brother sneered.

Steve puffed up his chest (which only made them laugh harder, to his dismay) and assumed his best preacher frown. “You really oughtta let him go, else one of the nuns’ll see you and get mad.”

“I ain’t scared of them _bitches_ ,” definitely-not-Annie said, with an ugly expression.

Steve’s jaw dropped open for a split second before he lunged forward with all of his weight and drove his bony elbow right into the taller boy’s gut, angled up into his ribs. He went down with a spectacular ‘ _oomph_!’ and the others stopped laughing.

“You little shit!” the blond snapped, finally dropping his hand from the ashen boy’s throat and turning to face Steve full-on.

With a little downwards quirk of his mouth, Steve assumed a flimsy boxer’s position.

“ _Steven Rogers_!” rang out sharply from behind him. “How many times this month am I gonna catch you roughhousin’ out here?”

The mood around the tree swung like a pendulum and the mobile five of the group started to make a run for it - a bark from Sister Lila had them freezing in place almost comically. She dressed them down quite spectacularly for a few moments as Steve looked on, until he remembered the brown-haired boy. He scrambled over to where the boy had collapsed against the tree and was staring, wide-eyed, at the Sister as she railed against his assailants.

“Hello,” Steve grinned.

The boy turned those icy blue eyes back to him, sweeping all the way down and up Steve’s kneeling frame (it didn’t take long), before meeting his eyes.

“You’re crazy,” the boy greeted roughly, flinging a hand to his throat as soon as he’d spoken.

“You’re hurt,” Steve frowned, reaching out to move the other boy’s hand aside and assess the damage. Well, it wasn’t the worst choking he’d ever seen, but his voice was gonna be a mess for a while, and those bruises would probably last a week.

“Had worse,” the boy croaked. The corner of his mouth flicked up, and Steve gave it more than a passing glance – the line of his mouth stayed still, curved down in one smooth, round stroke, all except for that little bit at the end that moved with his smile. Steve wanted to draw that shape immediately.

“I'm Steve,” he announced, sticking out his hand to his future drawing model. He would agree: Steve would make sure of it. “Steve Rogers.”

The boy pursed his lips and created another expression that Steve wanted to study. He grinned down at the other boy and his artistic face as his hand was clasped and gingerly shaken.

“Bucky Barnes,” the boy managed to squeeze out, while the words were noticeably mangled by his crushed voicebox.

But Steve smiled warmly. “Nice ta meet you, Bucky! You pick fights on the regular?”

Bucky’s face creased into a confused frown. “Nah, not on purpose. Shelley Darcy kissed me an’ Adam weren’t happy ‘cause he’s fierce sweet on her.” He paused for a moment, then scooted himself more upright against the tree and narrowed his eyes at Steve. “You pick fights?”

 _Well_ … “I don’t go lookin’,” Steve shrugged. “But I don’t walk away.”

“Even when it ain’t got nothin’ ta do with you?” Bucky pressed, looking suspicious.

Steve looked down at the ground between his knees. “Don’t like bullies, is all.”

There was silence for a little while – apart from the melodious sound of Sister Lila frog-marching the troublemakers towards the school building. When they were left alone, Bucky cleared his throat, and Steve obligingly looked up. The brunet had to clear his throat thickly a few more times before creaking out, “That was brave of ya.”

Steve was surprised. Well, _stupefied_ , actually – he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Nobody had ever described him as brave. Stupid, pugnacious, ridiculous - yes. But not...

He beamed. “You like art?”

Bucky blinked. “Dunno.”

“I like art,” Steve nodded. “Can I draw you?”

Bucky blinked twice. “Right now?”

“Lunch is just about over. What about tomorrow lunch? Or you can come back to my house? My ma’s at work but she left fish stew. You can have some?”

“My ma makes apple pie on Fridays,” Bucky shook his head. “You should come back ta mine.”

Steve beamed, and leaped to his feet. He offered a small hand down, and Bucky actually took it after a moment’s hesitation, and then actually _used_ it to haul himself up off the dusty ground. Steve found himself staggering under the older boy’s weight, but grinned up at him anyways once he was standing.

“I should go clean up,” Bucky gestured morosely towards the school building, and Steve was surprised for all of a few seconds until he noticed for the first time a cut against the boy’s cheekbone, and a brown smear over his lip from wiping away a bloodied nose.

Steve nodded, “I do that all the time. I’ll help ya,” and started off towards the school building. After a moment, Bucky trotted after him; catching up with ease and following Steve on their slight detour to pick up his book from where he’d dropped it before.

“Hey… hey Steve,” Bucky said quietly when they were approaching the steps, and Steve only really caught the words because Bucky was on his right-hand side. “Thanks.”

Steve shoved at him with a ducked smile, and – to his amazement – Bucky shoved him back. They entered the school building an odd pair, side-by-side, with Bucky bleeding gently from his nose and Steve glowing like a lit flame.


End file.
